


Take My Whole Life Too

by ThirteenSocks



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Body Horror, Heavy Angst, Keith (Voltron) Whump, M/M, lightly described gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:07:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22670710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThirteenSocks/pseuds/ThirteenSocks
Summary: Hagar starts her mind-control of Shiro much earlier.She knows that his connection to Keith runs deep. That love will be Voltron's undoing.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 64





	Take My Whole Life Too

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SharkChief](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SharkChief/gifts).



> Commission for the kind and lovely Whale Chief [@BettaChief](https://twitter.com/BettaChief)
> 
> Beta'd by the sweet Perpetual [@desafiar_](https://twitter.com/desafiar_)
> 
> Epilogue with Comfort to come.

”Strip.” Shiro commands.

Keith looks up at the man through blurred vision, his head having been knocked around earlier in their fighting. His eyes are struggling in their focus. But even through the haze he can make out Shiro’s eyes, glowing purple, their expression mad.

This is not Shiro, he has to remind himself.

This is Hagar.

He wonders how much Hagar had been watching all these months. His stomach twists to think she’d been there a few weeks ago, when Shiro’s mouth brushed light as a feather against the shell of his ear, asking – whispering, for Keith to follow him away somewhere- anywhere, just away. Alone. Somewhere they could fall into each other.

Out here he’s falling into Shiro another way.

The thought of their quiet, intimate moments being used against them is what he uses to harden his face.

Hagar will not get to see him break like this.

“Strip,” Shiro repeats.

Keith grits his teeth.

The words call him back to the moments Shiro made in themselves a home. It’s empty hallways in the Castle, the wilderness of a planet they’re visiting on diplomatic meetings, and even the cockpit of the Black Lion. It’s fumbling, desperation, and stolen breath from passion that came so terrifyingly easy when with Shiro.

The gaze of that Shiro, his Shiro, lingers atop Keith’s skin; that gaze that swept bare skin and set his insides molten. It had made Keith’s fingers tremble at zippers and struggle to get out of clothing fast enough.

Keith shuts those thoughts down, tucks them back into his mind.

Those quiet moments are his shield against the pains of this war. He uses the memories to remind himself why he’s fighting, when it feels like nothing Voltron nor the Blades do could ever make a dent in the Empire. He fears he’ll need these memories to comfort him again.

He fears he’ll need them soon.

“Strip,” Shiro says a final time. It’s no request. There’s no room for refusal. Despite the reflective metal around them, no light reaches Shiro’s eyes. Their gray might as well be the hardened steel beams around them, bearing into Keith, impaling him where he stands.

Keith’s armour is cracked and damaged from getting thrown around in their earlier fight. Part of it is dented in and it’s pressing against his ribs on inhale. Chunks are missing from it and the edges of them nick his fingers as they tremble their way to unclasp the hinges of his armour plates. Slowly, he removes the plating and sets it carefully at his feet.

Shiro looks hungry and too much like _his_ Shiro. Keith feels like he’s drowning in his head. That look was one he’d get whenever Shiro would ask him to lay, just lay, spread and naked, so Shiro could look his fill.

Keith always threw an arm across his face or else scrunched his eyes closed, if just to avoid seeing _where_ Shiro was looking. Keith would lay on his back, his chest collapsing and expanding in haste, as Shiro’s fingers, the metallic ones, first touched him cold.

Being bare like that, not just physically but emotionally, was something Keith afforded only Shiro. An orphan who could only rely on himself, Keith held tightly to control. But he’d give it Shiro.

What that control was: searing, intimate, and freely .

What this control isn’t: any of those things.

” That’s it.” Shiro coos.

Keith’s mind fills in the _good boy_ that this Shiro doesn’t say.

By now it’s evident that all of this, Shiro’s words and actions, mirroring what the two had done before in heated moments tucked away from the world, are purposeful. Hagar had gone through, if not experienced, Shiro’s memories of this: their days at the Garrison, Kerberos, the desert shack where Keith’s desperation to find Shiro again had been evidenced by the cork board and maps; Shiro’s want for Keith, and how deeply Keith wanted him back.

Strip, Shiro says, and Keith does it. What else is there to do? He resolutely doesn’t look at the other Paladins. If Hagar is following Shiro and Keith’s memories, there’s only one way this can end. Keith just wishes it didn’t have to be in front of the others.

He’s foolish thinking the amour will be enough.

” All of it.”

Keith glares, not at Shiro, but at Hagar.

He reaches behind himself for the zipper to the undersuit, fingers failing him a few times. Shakily, once they’ve found purchase on the metal, he pulls it down, the spandex parts, baring skin until the zipper dips at his lower back. He stops there.

” Oh, come on,” Shiro taunts with a dismissive wave,” I know all about your scars,” Shiro trails fingertips down Keith’s back, they catch over the crests and troughs of pink that litter the skin there. Some of them are from fighting as a Paladin and some from his trials with the Blades. Others, however-

Shiro brushes Keith’s hair away from his back, gently, too gently, then grabs Keith’s chin and yanks, making him have to twist around and stumble.

He’s forced to look at his team at last.

“But _they_ don’t.”

* * *

Keith stumbles out of the ship after it docks into the Castle. His legs are having trouble supporting his weight, like his mind is having trouble with its thoughts of Regris. Both are burdens he doesn’t want to bear at the moment.

He uses the wall of the ship to try and gain stability, but the cold of its metal surface stings at the scrapes on his hands.

He chooses to just pull his bummed leg behind despite how awkward it makes his steps.

Already he’s bruising and it’s a chore to drag air into his lungs, his ribs pained in their expansion. All he wants to do is fall into his bed and forget the day.

He hesitates at the door that connects the docking station to the rest of the Castle. The team will be on the other side and he’s not in the mood to deal with them. Part of what he likes about the Blades is they don’t try and get Keith to socialize when he doesn’t feel like it.

Or at all, really.

Allura greets him, was probably waiting for him, knew when he’d arrived in and planted herself there to keep him from going straight back to his room. Her expression is tight. There’s a slight dip in her brows, her lips are pressed thin, and her arms crossed over her chest. She’s standing in the middle of the small hallway, blocking him.

” Where were you?” Her voice grates on his ears. It’s as strained as her posture.

” I don’t wanna talk right now.” He tries to push past her, but she stops him with a hand on the shoulder. It makes him recoil. He’s not good with being touched on the best of days. But Regris just died to save him.

He’s especially not good with being touched today.

” Voltron needed you.”

That stops him.

” I’m sorry.”

Voltron may have needed him, but _they_ didn’t. Though, Voltron didn’t really need _him_ , either, exactly. What Voltron had needed was a Black Paladin, and Keith had filled the role out of duty. The Black Lion had chosen him because Shiro had chosen him.

But Shiro was back now.

They didn’t need him and soon Black would take Shiro back. Which was, secretly, to his relief.

” Keith...” she starts, and he can tell she’s biting back frustration in favor of trying a gentle approach.

He eases passed her -she lets him go.

Hunk and Pidge are on the couch, huddled over a tablet. They glance up at Keith, then to each other, and back to the tablet. They whisper to each other and bump each other with elbows and shoulders. Whatever they’d been doing, it was something for just them two.

The door behind him whooshes softly and Keith hears Allura’s sigh.

It’s late into the night, so it’s not surprising to see Hunk and Pidge awake, Allura probably stayed up for him, and he figures Lance is sleeping but-

” Where’s Shiro?” Shiro always waited for Keith, always walked him to his room when he came back on a mission Shiro hadn’t been with him on.

The pair on the couch repeat their earlier action; look at him, themselves, and back down.

” He stayed here with Coran, acting Commander,” Allura says,” He’s likely exhausted, Keith.”

He hears the implied, ’don’t try and wake him,’ but that wasn’t something he was going to do. After everything, Shiro needed time to rest and recuperate.

Though it stung to not have the man there.

He was hoping to be able to spend some minutes just quietly in Shiro’s presence, maybe in a hug, to gain some grounding after the day.

Keith looks around to the team members around the room. No one looks back. He limps out of there and heads towards his own.

 _They won’t even look at me_. It feels like it did when he was younger, back when he was still a problem child from a home, or at the Garrison solely riding on Shiro’s extended grace. If he wasn’t being disciplined, he was invisible. He only mattered so far as being someone to monitor in case he went off the deep end. Not that he could blame anyone.

He feels like a ghost as he treks the empty hallways to the living quarters.

” Keith, we really needed you out there.” Shiro’s voice startles him.

Keith near jumps out of his skin and stumbles towards the wall.” Shiro? Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

” Shouldn’t you have been here earlier?” The tone is accusing and not something he’s used to hearing from Shiro.

It makes him wince.

Shiro’s leaning back against the wall outside Keith’s door. His arms are crossed. He regards Keith, head tilted up and back, the wall catching his head, as his gaze falls down at Keith.

” Shiro, I-” Keith steps forward, hands outstretched in front of him. He doesn’t know what he’s meaning to say, only that he wants to say something, _anything_ , to keep Shiro from looking down his nose at him.

” Get some rest, Keith.” Shiro unfolds his arms and takes hold of Keith’s hands where they’re extended forward and returns them to Keith’s sides.

He pushes off from the wall with a foot and heads down the hall to his own room, not sparing a glance nor a word towards Keith. Shiro enters his own room. The door closes in clear rejection.

Keith stumbles through his own door.

Inside, he strips himself of the Blade suit. It catches along the cuts and bruises as he unzips, peels it off, and then steps out of it. It knocks the wind from him, especially as it rubs at his injured ribs. He tosses it somewhere across the room leaving it for future him to launder.

Lacking the energy to shower or find pajamas, he carefully lowers himself to the bed. Pulling his leg up, over, and onto the bed is a chore, a painful one, but eventually he gets it and tucks himself beneath the covers. He takes one of his pillows and stuffs it between his knees to take the pressure off his leg to find some relief.

If the pain isn’t manageable by the morning, he’ll step into a pod.

He fell asleep, eventually, unable to erase Regris’ face from his head as dreams swept him under.

* * *

The Blades don’t have another mission for a few days, not one that Keith could go on, which sees him at the Castle until they do.

The rest of the team is having a video game playing day, but Keith can’t imagine joining them. _This is war_ , they could be needed at any moment, it’s no time for games. The more he’s with the Blades, the more he realizes just how _relaxed_ the atmosphere on the ship is. It makes Keith’s blood boil to know innocents are dying out there and all Team Voltron sees fit to do is laze around.

Keith readies for the day, deciding he’ll spend most of it on the training deck, and the rest of it studying up on the intel he’s retrieved from missions.

There’s a knock at his door and he’s already preparing to tell Lance to leave him alone as he walks to the pad to open it.

” Keith,” it’s Shiro. His hair is dripping wet and smells of the pine-scented soap he uses, which Keith’s extra sensitive smelling can pick up from over there. A shirt is slung over one of his thickly muscled shoulders, and he’s wearing gray sweatpants with a little logo of the Black Lion over a pocket. They hang low off his hips and define his-

Keith scalds himself for being distracted. _This is war_ , he reminds himself. There isn’t time for a crush. Least of all when Keith knows he’s going to _get crushed_ by it.

Keith looks back up.” Everything ok?” Shiro isn’t one for visiting Keith in his room. They usually spend their time outside the living quarters, with the sole exception of when Keith watched over Shiro when he returned to them. Certainly, Shiro had never shown up to Keith’s room fresh from a shower and half undressed.

But Shiro had been acting strange around Keith ever since Keith had stayed in Shiro’s room, nursing him back to health.

” I was gonna ask you the same thing,” Shiro chuckles and the courner of his eyes crinkle with the mirth. His face is still dewy from the shower.” Hey, can I come in? I actually wanted to talk to you about something.”

Keith swallows and nods, waving Shiro inside. Even though he thinks it might not be the best idea, that seeing Shiro like this is stirring things in Keith, things he’d tampered down.

Keith sits down on the bed as Shiro sinks onto the chair by his desk. At first, anyways.

Shiro gets up and moves the chair closer, close enough that when he sits down their knees touch, one of Shiro’s leg slots between where Keith’s legs are spread.

Keith hadn’t realized Shiro would do that, would get so near, or position himself like that. He also hadn’t realized how vulnerable it would feel having Shiro’s leg between his.

But it’s too late to close his legs now.

Shiro brings a large hand to rest on one of Keith’s thighs and squeezes; the span of his hand nearly swallows it.

Keith’s throat swallows in turn.

” Listen, Keith, I know now might not be the time but... it’s been killing me. I think _now_ , rather than later, I should tell you something.” He ducks his head and his lips quirk up in a nervous smile, his eyes, a soft gray shining by the light of the room, are gentle on Keith.

Keith gasps softly. There’s no room for thinking with Shiro looking at him like _that._ He’s hypnotized. 

Shiro leans closer.

Keith can’t help the flick of his eyes down to Shiro’s lips. They’re a little chapped, like they’d been worried by teeth. Keith imagines it; the slow roll of the bottom lip between Shiro’s canines. Keith really wants to close his legs.

” Keith, do you like me?”

Keith blows out the breath he’d been holding, a chuckle replaces it. He withdraws his head back, creating distance.

” You’re like a brother to me, of course I like you.”

Shiro matches the laugh but shakes his head. He presses forward where Keith had pulled back. The weight of his hand on Keith’s thigh reminds Keith it was there. Shiro squeezes it again.” _I_ like you. As more than a brother, or friend.”

Keith blinks. He can see the droplets of water from Shiro’s hair trace down forehead then cheek, then neck, and dip into a bare clavicle. It catches in the hollow of the bone before finally traveling down an ample peck –

 _wait,”_ What? You like me- as more?” Keith’s eyes flick back up to meet Shiro’s.

Shiro’s knee brushes light against Keith’s crotch.

Keith doesn’t mean to let out a whine but the surprise of the touch forces it from him.

Shiro reaches out to Keith, taking his chin between thumb and forefinger gently, and tilts Keith’s face up. His breath is hot against Keith’s face. There’s almost no gray left to be seen in his eyes; it’s all pupil.” Can I kiss you?”

He asks nearly against Keith’s lips. He must already know the answer.

” Shiro...” Keith breathes the name and lets his eyes close. This is all so surreal.

Keith feels the gentle press of Shiro’s lips against his and it makes his lips tingle. He presses back tentatively. It’s his first kiss and he has no idea what to do. But the feeling of lightning that sparks in all of his nerve endings makes him think he’s doing ok.

They part and Keith opens his eyes halfway just to see Shiro raise out of the chair and rock onto the knee between his legs. He comes down on Keith, pushing him back down onto the bed with his weight. It goes from a knee, to an entire thigh against him. A thigh that moves around as Shiro adjusts so he’s half pressing Keith into the mattress, and half on his elbows.

Keith groans. There’s no point in hiding the interest Shiro no doubt feels against his thigh.

This is so surreal and he wonders what’s gotten into Shiro.

Shiros lays all the way on top of Keith as he takes his lips again, this time with fervor and hunger.

Keith tries to follow Shiro’s movements: the sucking of tongue, the slide of tongue, and the gentle scrape of teeth against lip.

It’s a magic that has Keith thrumming with excitement from where their lips meet and all the way down to his toes, which curl in his socks.

They kiss until Keith’s forgotten anything to do with Team Voltron or the Blades. And that Shiro was acting odd.

* * *

The Blades need Keith for a mission to gather intel. _Need_ him. Specifically, for his small stature, which is a change of pace to find there’s something, something inherent, unchangeable, immutable, innate about him that makes him mission critical.

It’s a mission he has to take.

So, he does.

He doesn’t know Voltron will need him.

He gets back, bone-tired and dragging himself from the ship like he seems to always be doing after these missions. He’s not full Galra and he wasn’t trained since he was young, so it’s hard to keep up with the other Blades.

Not that he’ll ever admit it. He refuses to be a liability.

Keith can carry his own weight.

He was able to slip through the vent system and a hole in one of the offices, looking to be a remnant of a little explosive being thrown at it, the hole was too small for any of the other Blades to fit through, and grabbed some snapshots of the security monitors in the room. From those, they’d be able to piece together the lay of the whole ship; including the room where they kept the classified documents.

Keith sliced his arm on a jagged edge of the hole, but all-in-all the mission was a success and the damage was minimal. Their team got away without being spotted and they’d nabbed the intel.

He’s greeted by Allura again, who holds the same posture as the time he’d come back after Regris’ death, but the dip in her brow is lower and her lips are pulled even tighter.

” We had to form Voltron today, but we couldn’t, you know.” She spits the words at him.

” The Blades needed me for this. That ship has documents that will tell us the orders of some of the highest-ranking officers in the Empire.” He scowls,” Did you _really_ need Voltron? You look fine to me.”

It must have been the wrong thing to say because a dark look falls over her eyes.” The universe needs Voltron. Voltron, whether we like it or not, needs you.”

” Why _me_? Shiro’s back. I never wanted this,” he gestures vaguely towards where the Lions’ hanger is,” I’m not meant to be the Black Paladin. I was the Red Paladin, but she’s chosen a new pilot. Now, _This,_ ” he waves down at his Blade suit,” is me.”

” This isn’t about what _you_ want. The Black Lion chose you-”

” Yeah, because Shiro was gone, and I’d piloted her before. But the only reason I piloted her before was because Shiro was in danger, he needed her,” _he needed me_ ,” but Shiro isn’t in danger anymore, and he’s back.”

” The Lions choose their pilots, you know it isn’t that simple- you know how much I tried to get Red-” she stops herself, likely hearing the emotion in her voice, the frustration and desperation.

Allura is a lot like Shiro; they both didn’t like showing what they think is weakness. But it was really their humanity they were mistaking for weakness.

To them, being fallible meant being feeble.

” I’m sorry, I’m... not good at talking with people. But can we have Shiro try, please? I’m not Black’s pilot.” He hesitates, not sure if it’ll be ok to say what he’s thinking, but he wants to comfort her, so he tries anyway, ”For what it’s worth, if anyone should have been in Black while he was gone, it should’ve been you.”

Her eyes widen for a moment, then she looks away. When she looks back, her expression is softer, if more tired.

She reaches a hand out, stopping it just before it lands on Keith’s shoulder. Her eyes search his face.

He realizes she’s asking permission. He nods.

She squeezes his shoulder.

” We can have Shiro try again tomorrow. Please get yourself to a pod to heal up your arm and try and get some rest.”

” Good night, Princess.”

He goes down the hallway to where the pods are, but he’s stopped by his arm, the bleeding one, being yanked back. The hand that grips it does so right on the wound. He’s spun around by it, too tired for his instincts to have him fight back. He’s home, who would attack him on the Castle?

”Wha- Shiro?”

Shiro’s frowning,” Come on, Keith,” he drags Keith by the injured arm, causing Keith to stumble the first few steps as he struggles to get balance and keep up with Shiro’s pace.

There was that same strange look on Shiro’s face.

” I’ll follow- Just, let go, ok?” Keith asks, his voice small.

Shiro drops his arm and wipes his bloodied palm against his shirt. He’s quiet, unnervingly so. He doesn’t look back to see if Keith is following, just keeps walking.

Keith follows.” Geez, all you had to do was ask.” He adds a short chuckle.

Shiro doesn’t laugh.

They end up outside of the training deck.

” We’re gonna spar? Now?” Keith asks.

” Yeah,” Shiro grunts and motions for Keith to go in. He calls for the room to turn the lights on.

It’s quiet, everyone else is sleeping, except maybe Allura. Chills prickle at Keith’s skin. This isn’t something Shiro would do.

” Strip your armour.” Shiro orders as he heads towards the rack with their training weapons. It’s then he notices Shiro isn’t dressed for sparing. He’s not wearing his armour.” This won’t be a test of physical strength.”

Keith heads over to the rack and slowly unlatches his plating and rests it on the ground.” What are we doing then?” He picks up one of the training swords and tests it’s weight in his hand.

It causes him to wince as it tugs on the scabbing up wound on his right arm. He switches it to his left and feels it again. It’s a light sword, and the balance is decent in his grip.

” Temperance, Keith. I need you to learn it.”

Shiro chooses a sword and makes his way towards the center of the room. He crouches down into the beginning stance.

” Part of being a leader is actually leading your team. You can’t lead if you’re not here. I know you feel like being with the Blades right now, but you need to temper that desire to run away.”

Shiro calls for Keith to get into position. He’s also holding the sword in his left hand. Shiro must have learned that grip when he’d lost his arm.

Keith sets his feet comfortably wide, sinking his weight to the whole of his foot. He gets grounded first. He’ll redistribute his weight as the swings come. Adjusting the grip on the sword, Keith looks to Shiro, to signal he’s ready.

” I never wanted to be leader.” Keith says.

Shiro makes his first move. The sword arcs quickly through the air.

Keith parries the blow, using the momentum of the downswing to knock the sword off to the side.

Shiro regains his positioning.

” But you are, Keith.”

” Because you were gone. You’re here now.” Keith breathes, watching Shiro to gauge which spot, which direction of swing, will be least guarded and least suspected. He goes for a middle lunge.

” The Lions choose their pilots.” Shiro dips out of Keith’s reach and the sword stabs into empty air.

” Have you tried to ask her to take you back?”

Shiro’s brows drop down, for a brief second Keith swears he sees a purple glow shine across them. But there’s no time to question it as Shiro steps forcefully into his own blow.

The wood of Shiro’s training sword connects with Keith’s shoulder with a sickening snap. It sends Keith flying across the room and scraping over the floor. There’s a crack as Keith lands on a leg, it bends an odd direction. His nose snaps where his face bangs against the floor.

” Keith!” Shiro’s yell sounds muffled beneath the high-pitched ringing in Keith’s ears.

Keith slides his arms into a position to push up from but there’s not enough strength for him to do so.

He’s disoriented. Knocked clean off his feet not just by Shiro’ s sword, but by the fact that he had brought it down with purposeful force.

From the courner of his vision he sees Shiro fall to his knees beside him.

He reaches a hand out to Keith’s shoulder and tries to move him but he screams and that makes Shiro withdraw his hand, looking at it like it had burned Keith.

” I-” Shiro is breathing quick, his chest visibly expanding and collapsing in staccato. His eyes seem unfocused, jumping from Keith to his hand and back again.

His shoulders round and he goes still.

” Shiro, it’s ok,” speaking is an effort and his face is swollen, making his words muffled,” You’re here at the Castle, not the arena. I’m ok- _It’s ok_. You didn’t mean to.”

” Keith, Keith- I don’t know what came over me-” Shiro’s words are clipped by his panting.

” Breathe, Shiro.” Keith turns his onto his cheek, groaning as it jars his nose against the floor.” It’s ok. I’m ok.” He tries again to push up but just ends up collapsing back down with a whine.

” God, Keith- You’re not ok. can you even move? We gotta get you to a pod.” Shiro curses and leans closer, hand coming to softly cup his cheek. Shiro brushes hair back behind Keith’s ear. His eyebrows raise and push together in concern, his mouth trembles, like he’s swallowing back tears.” I’m gonna have to move you.”

Keith bites down hard to keep from making noises as Shiro rolls him to his back, this time using his ribcage, rather than his shoulder, as leverage. The change in position strikes him with lightheadedness.

” Your leg...”

Keith’s closes his eyes as he feels Shiro work an arm beneath his back, and - he hisses from the movement - an arm beneath his knees.

When Shiro lifts him up, he cries out as it puts weight against his broken leg.

” I’m sorry,” Shiro jostles him a bit in his hold, so that he’s got Keith resting against his chest, the arm that was beneath his knees moves up to hold Keith under his thighs.

The walk to the pod is agony. Keith wants to bury his face in Shiro’s shirt. He wants to comfort himself by Shiro’s scent. But his nose was snapped crooked and he can’t smell. And in the moment, for what feels the first time, Shiro’s not what’s going to comfort him.

Shiro had frozen before, overtaken by memories, but he’d never lashed out. Keith had never seen Shiro become that man from the arena. But as Shiro had struck Keith, the force more than was necessary in practice, when they hadn’t been wearing their armour, he felt like he knew why Shiro had become Champion.

He felt afraid of the one person who always felt safe.

* * *

Keith is piloting Black, Shiro’s behind him in a chair that Black conjured for him. He’s stiff at her controls. They’ve been drifting around the area, having heard that Lotor’s ship had been spotted in the quadrant.

Something rushes past Keith’s vision.

” Did you see that?” Keith’s back straightens. His grip on the control sticks tightens.” Lotor,” he spits the name.

” Keith, no-” Shiro tries to command.

Keith hears him but it doesn’t register. His teeth are grinding against each other and his breathing quickens. It gets hard to see in his wider field of vision; his focus is so narrowed. He squeezes his eyes tightly, yanking on the control sticks, heading towards where Lotor had gone.

Shiro’s hand clamps down hard on Keith’s shoulder, but he doesn’t say anything. It’s not the type of silence that’s approving - nor the touch that’s affirming - but the kind that goosepimples Keith’s skin and speeds up his pulse in anxiety. Keith’s uneasiness for Shiro had grown steadily by the day.

He sends Black at full speed towards the cruiser that’s now weaving in acrobatic loops, speeding just faster than the Lion can go.

As Keith focuses out the window, the light from nearby sun bends across the window in just the way that he can see their reflections in Black’s windshield.

Shiro’s back is straight, his expression neutral, but his eyes have a subtle glint of purple to them. The sun they’re approaching is burning white hot; Keith isn’t sure how it could make Shiro’s gray eyes violet.

Lotor’s cruiser comes to an abrupt stop and then pulls up.

Black doesn’t have the agility to follow smoothly. She’s the biggest Lion, meant for strength, not being nimble.

Not for the first time, Keith misses Red. He misses how Red suited his piloting style.

He slows Black down so he can draw her up in the direction Lotor went.

That’s how the chase goes.

Lotor pilots a straight course and then, at will, changes trajectory, and waits for Keith to catch up. It’s taunting. He’s taunting Keith.

He flies in easy circles as Black is maneuvered to follow.

Suddenly, the sun that was in the distance is no longer so distant. Even through Black’s heat shields the cockpit is warming up. Keith feels sweat begin to run down his forehead. The temperature is visible in the air, distorting vision.

” Keith-”

He can’t stop now, Lotor is slowing down, and if Black is having trouble with the heat, then Lotor’s cruiser must be close to melting. He hears something creaking somewhere in the cockpit but doesn’t have the mind to think about it.

” Keith, we’re gonna melt-”

Keith shrugs the hand from his shoulder and pulls Black’s control sticks as far as they’ll go; he needs all the speed he can get.

He’s got this.

He’ll take down Lotor. It’ll be a big hit to the Empire. He’ll take the victory back to the Blades, proud.

” Keith!”

Keith’s ripped from the pilot’s seat, his back colliding with the side of the ship. He catches on something, something sharp, it rips through skin and holds him in place. The shock doesn’t let him feel the pain, only be aware of the injury, with his adrenaline pulsing, burning in his veins.

He expects to open his eyes and see Shiro equally flung from his seat.

What he actually sees is Shiro _in_ his seat. He’s taken back control of Black.

Keith doesn’t look down at his body, where he felt something tear through him, he focuses on the scene outside. He knows if he acknowledges it, he’s gonna lose his calm.

He looks out, so he doesn’t look down.

They turn away from the sun, away from where Lotor’s flying his ship.

The turn impales Keith further and he scrambles to find something to hold on to, to still his body, as Black flies rough wherever it is Shiro’s taking her.

The pour of sweat renews on his skin and he has to force himself to breathe, to not think about the fact that he’s sliced open. He can’t panic. If he panics, he’ll faint. If he faints, he can’t hold himself still.

The object entered him in his lower abdomen and ripped clean through.

One wrong move and it’ll take out organs.

” Shiro, I’m hurt-” he calls out, ”please, we have to stop- something’s in me-” he screams as Black abruptly slams to a stop, his hands close around something, he’s not sure what, but it gives him some leverage to not fly forward.

Whatever is through him is jostled.

There’s no containing the scream that’s forced out of him. He looks down, on instinct-

It’s a beam that must have melted and fallen down in the heat.

” Shiro!” He cries out, terrified, needing the man’s comfort, reassurance, his distraction.

Shiro finally looks his way and terror overcomes his face.

He scrambles to Keith’s side, eyes thrown open wide as his hands hover around Keith, placating.” Shh,” he tries but it’s not convincing with how his voice shakes and his eyes keep falling down to the beam jutting from Keith’s stomach,” It’ll be ok. Uh- Let me just- I’m-”

He reaches above Keith where the communication panel is and there’s a click of a button, then static, then the voice of Allura.

” Allura! Help, it’s Keith! He’s- There’s a beam- he’s impaled- We need a pod. Now!”

” Of course! _Lance_ ,” her voice fades a little on the speakers,” Load up Red with one of the emergency pods and go meet Keith and Shiro. Fly as fast as you can! Keith’s injured.” Her voice returns to its full volume,” Right, ok- Shiro, I need you to keep him completely still, alright? Do _not_ try and get him off the beam until the pod arrives. Keith, please do your best to stay awake. Breathe and as much as you can don’t think about it. Do _not_ panic. Now, I’m going to go make sure Lance doesn’t need help, but ring me again if there are any changes, alright?”

” Thank you, Allura,” Shiro says before the line cuts off.

Keith feels his weight wanting to drag him forward, dizziness tugging him down. Shiro must be watching him closely because he recognizes the slumping and catches him before he can fold forward.

Keith tries to raise his head, to smile, and thank Shiro, but opening his mouth only proves to see blood flow from it.

He’s bleeding from the inside.

Something in the air changes and Keith wishes he could look up and see Shiro to read his face. The grip around him tightens.

” I tried to warn you,” Shiro sighs, bringing his sleeve up to Keith’s mouth to wipe the blood. That voice doesn’t sound like Shiro. Those words don’t sound like Shiro’s. Keith had always taken a comfort in hearing Shiro, the man spoke softly, and his voice was deep, strong, and sure. It was normally something Keith liked to be surrounding in. But this sounded nothing like voice he loved. This sounded tinny- almost robotic.

Not to mention the words were cruel.

Keith can’t speak. He can’t defend himself right now.

All he can do is listen.

Shiro would never back Keith into a courner like that.

” That’s your problem, Keith. You don’t listen. And now look what it’s got you. _Look,”_ Shiro grabs Keith’s chin and yanks it downward, forcing Keith to see the beam sticking out of him.” Sometimes I wonder if you were ever worth the trouble. You’re costing the universe right now.”

Keith feels dizzy looking at the place where the fabric of his suit is ripped open and his skin is torn around the metal.

Shiro pulls his head back up by the grip on his chin.

Their eyes meet.

That purple is there, again, gleaming in his eyes. And his face is harder than Keith has ever seen it.

Everything inside of Keith is telling him to run, but he can’t move, and the Lion is small anyways. Shiro would find him. And something tells Keith there would be consequences for having tried to get away.

 _This_ Shiro, he tries to separate this face from the one who looked at Keith only with kindness, makes Keith terrified. _This_ person was a stranger wearing Shiro’s face and body.

” Don’t give me that look.”

Keith grimaces with the effort it takes to breathe, to get his mouth to move, to speak around blood.” What look?” He manages to ask, gargling blood.

Shiro doesn’t answer him.

Keith’s vision is on and off by the time he hears the Red Lion’s roar. Something aches in his chest hearing her again, worried for him again.

He’s grateful for the delirium that’s settled in because he barely registers Shiro’s fingers against his throat, the pressure points there, knocking him out.

It was merciful he be unconscious for them taking him off the beam.

A mercy, Keith was starting to fear, might be one his last from Shiro.

* * *

Shiro walks Keith backwards until the backs of his knees hit the bed, and he gently shoves Keith down. He falls soft against the bed, the mattress causing him to bounce a little before it takes his weight.

Shiro watches down at him, a hunger growing in his expression, his warm gray eyes become hooded as they trace down the line of Keith’s body.

Keith chuckles nervously, wanting to cover himself but he’s already clothed. The tightness of his undersuit hugs everything though. He watches Shiro’s eye track a line down him; the dip of his clavicle, the swell of nipples, the jut of his hip bones, and-

Keith has to look away as Shiro’s large hand comes down on where he’s straining under the suit. The hand wraps around him and squeezes. Keith throws his head all the way back and lets the groan overtake him.

They’ve done this before. They’ve stolen sloppy kisses in empty hallways, explored each other’s bodies with hands, and Keith even got his first experience of taking a cock in his mouth.

But they’d been talking lately about doing more.

Shiro had explained that he wasn’t one to bottom, but he could try for Keith, if that’s what Keith wanted. Keith, with no experience, couldn’t really say what he _actually_ liked.

That caused a mischievous smile to break out on Shiro’s face, and the man leaned over Keith, with a generous squeeze to his cock, and brought his lips just beside Keith’s ear.” When you touch yourself, or when you have my hand on you,” he accented that with another squeeze, drawing a moan from Keith,” what do you picture me doing? Am I lying on my back, spread for you or are you filled wide and deep with me?”

The image that came immediate was Shiro draped over him, Keith’s legs wrapped at his lower back, and he was, most definitely, filled wide and deep with Shiro.

He told Shiro as much.

Shiro jerked him through the suit, whispering to Keith about what he’d do and how good it would feel to be in him.

It wouldn’t be until the next time that his answer really had any consequence.

They’re making out and falling back onto the couch in the unused rec room. Keith straddles Shiro’s thighs, legs straining in how they have to spread to accommodate the girth of Shiro’s body.

Shiro’s hands are kneading Keith’s ass, it fits perfect in his palms.

The feeling is a pleasant hum against how good their kiss is making Keith feel.

Suddenly, as Keith is just breaking away from some air, there’s a slight poke followed by a kneading right at his hole. The sensation is strange but still enjoyable. Keith cranes his neck around to see that it’s Shiro’s thumb.

Shiro presses gently and instinctively Keith thrusts back against it.

” That feel good, baby?” Shiro chuckles and the vibration can be felt from where their chests are resting together.

Keith lets his head fall against Shiro’s shoulder as he enjoys the man’s fingers playing with him.

Shiro gets his hand beneath Keith’s pants and the band of his underwear, and repeats his earlier ministrations, this time it’s delicious skin-on-skin contact. Shiro works Keith’s hole until it easily accepts three fingers. Then he thrusts them against something inside that makes Keith gasp like the air is punched out from him. He melts onto Shiro as the fingers brush the area again.

Keith ruts against Shiro, desperate for friction against his cock, lost in the knowledge that some part of Shiro is inside him.

He finishes untouched.

* * *

Keith’s in his small ship, Shiro’s words in his ears.

They need to take down the witch, or the planet is going to blow. They need to break through the shield around that weapon.

He tells the rebels to fire with all they’ve got. But their blasts aren’t doing anything, and Keith’s ship gets hit with a beam.

” We’ll never break through those shields,” Matt calls frantically over the comms.

Keith’s eyes widen but he’s been watching the same as Matt. And he’s right, none of their shots have even dented the shield, they’ve all just bounced off or were absorbed.

His eyes narrow and eyebrows set low on his brow.

There’s one more thing they can do.

He wouldn’t ask it of any one of the rebels, isn’t even sure it’s viable. But it is an option. And anything that has the potential to take down the weapon, to save everyone, everything, within the blast zone, to save the universe’s greatest hope, is worth the sacrifice.

” Maybe not with our weapons.”

Keith throws the control sticks forward, blasting away towards the shield.

” Keith, no!” He hears Matt shout before he reaches over the cut the comms.

Matt doesn’t deserve to see this, not if the comm doesn’t cut before-

Keith screws his eyes shut tightly and presses forward as far as the controls will go.

Sweat forms at his temples. The ship is overheating from being pushed so hard despite the damage it took in the earlier blast.

The ship is rocking wildly, and he opens his eyes to see flashes of light all around him. It’s kind of beautiful. It’s not something he’d ever thought about but, in these moments, he needs something to hold onto, some small mercy.

He can’t think about Shiro, who would be the only one to really mourn.

So, he slips his eyes closed again, grateful for the last image, and waits for impact.

* * *

Keith finger-dries his wet hair and goes to his dresser to pull out some clothes. After almost dying at Naxzela, the Blades, Kolivan really, had told Keith that he needed to remain with Team Voltron for the time being.

He’d tried to argue that what he’d attempted to do was necessary, and something they all would have done.

But Kolivan just got a tight expression on his face and let Keith know it was an order that he stay with the team.

Keith didn’t bring up that Kolivan had not disagreed.

” Quit treating me like a child!” He’d tried instead. He wasn’t lesser just because he was only half.

” But you are one. And that is why I would rather not see you out there treating your life like it’s expendable.”

There’s a knock on his door.

” One second,” he calls out but it’s already opening, and he only has time to get and put on underwear.

It’s Shiro.

” Shiro, I was changing- I’m-” he grabs a pillow and holds it to his chest. He doesn’t feel comfortable being vulnerable around Shiro anymore.

Shiro’s eyes are dark, the light of the room isn’t seeming to reach them. His brows are low. He steps closer and Keith sees that purple in his eyes again.

” What was that out there?” Shiro stops in front of Keith.

” Matt told you?” He gulps,” Listen, Shiro, the bomb was gonna be detonated- I had to do something-”

Shiro steps forward, Keith steps back. Seeing that look on the man’s face is making everything in Keith want to run away- just like when they were in Black together.

His back hits the wall and a tremor crawls up his spine.

He’d always been attracted to Shiro’s height, that he was so much bigger than Keith in every way. But now, with nowhere to run to, it felt claustrophobic beneath him.

Shiro’s prosthetic hand reaches out and traces Keith’s shoulder. The metal of it is cold and makes Keith hiss at the contact.

” Keith, we’ve gotta teach this out of you. Voltron can’t have its leader going rogue like you’re doing.” He closes his eyes, and sighs,” turn around.”

” W-what? But you’re in Black again. Shiro, let me put on-”

” Turn. Around. Hands on the wall.”

Keith turns.

” I’ve tried so hard to get through to you, but nothing I do seems to work. Please, Keith, make this easier for me.”

Keith dares not try and get away. He’s held in place not just by the physical threat that Shiro poses, but also Keith’s inability to say no to him. This may not be his Shiro, but it’s still Shiro.

He hears Shiro move the covers behind him; there’s only one thing he keeps under them-

His knife.

There’s beeping from the control panel; Shiro is silencing the room.

Keith waits and tries to steady his breathing, his fingers curl into fists and gently pound at the wall. He knows what Shiro’s going to do and he tries to prepare himself for it.

Shiro places a hand on Keith’s shoulder blade and makes the first cut. It’s deep and dragging and crosses from shoulder to shoulder.

Keith screams and his hands beat against the wall.

” Please, don’t make me do this again, Keith. Make this easier on me. Can you do that? Learn this lesson?”

Keith is choking on his own spit and tears,” I-hhh- I can try.” He can still feel the bite of the knife splitting his flesh.

Shiro cuts him again.

Keith wants to lash out, to break away, but the knife is still at his back, pressing against his skin; if he moves, it’s going to slice him more.

Shiro pauses, trailing fingers down the knobs of Keith’s spine. He sighs but there’s a small hint of pleasure to it.

Keith thinks, as he refuses to let free another sob, Shiro’s enjoying this.

 _’Who are you?’_ , he wants to ask.

Shiro cuts again-

” Shiro, please! I- I can’t-”

and again-

-” Shiro-”

and again-

” Please! Ok, ok! I’ll stop! Please Shiro, it hurts.” Keith is no stranger to pain, but the one inflicting it is never Shiro. Not like this. These wounds go deeper than his flesh. He wants to crumple up on his bed and die in it.

Shiro ruined his back and liked it.

The knife skitters to the floor.

* * *

Keith dares not enter a pod; they’ll know. They’ll find out. So, he leaves for the Blades, this time he thinks he’ll be gone for good.

* * *

” Strip,” Shiro says.

Keith’s laying on the bed, arms out beside his head. His breath is coming laboured, hard to manage beneath the weight of Shiro’s stare.

Shiro had been on top of him, their mouths meeting in fervor and hands exploring each other, but then he pulled back and asked Keith not to move. He climbed off the bed and stood beside it, his eyes traveling the full map of Keith’s body beneath his skin-tight suit.

” Please, baby,” _baby._ That name got Keith every time. He collapsed under the word.” I want to see you spread out for me.”

_Baby._

Keith stripped.

* * *

They meet each other in battle. That purple in Shiro’s eyes had fully taken over and, when Shiro activated his arm, Keith finally understood what it meant.

” Shiro, I know you’re in there,” he’d pleaded for Shiro, the Shiro beneath Hagar’s control. But he couldn’t pull the man out, no matter what he tried.

So, prosthetic met blade over and over while Keith tried so hard to get Shiro back to him.

Finally, Shiro had Keith on his back, the full weight of the activated prosthetic held away from him only by the strength of his grip on the knife. A grip that wouldn’t, couldn’t last forever. In a final attempt to reach him, Keith said the words he’d kept locked up, refused to open up for the man, even when he was beneath Shiro in better circumstances.

” Shiro, please-” he gritted,” I love you.”

For a precious moment, the man jolted, and clarity came to his eyes.

Moment enough for Keith to recognize that it was Shiro.

Moment enough for Keith to ease his grip, for it was Shiro.

Then the next moment came and Hagar had control again, and Keith’s knife is knocked away, and there’s a searing pain as the arm comes against his skin, burning it from beneath his eye all the way down to his neck.

Keith rolls away.

Shiro pins him down and grabs his hands, twisting them behind his back. Shiro calls out something in Galran.

Then there’s a pain at the base of Keith’s skull and he’s out.

* * *

He comes to and sees the team with their hands cuffed behind their backs, surrounded by Galran soldiers, their blasters aimed at them.

” Strip.”

* * *

” I’m here because, despite better judgement, your leader was desperate for me. He didn’t notice that I wasn’t _him_. And I’m going to show you just how desperate.” He takes Keith’s chin into his hand and yanks it up,” I’m going to give exactly what you want, _baby_. And they’re going to see exactly what it was that compromised Voltron.”

He kisses the nape of Keith’s neck as he rips the front his suit. He turns to the others,” Beautiful, isn’t he? Shiro was just as much a fool for him as he is for Shiro.”

Keith growls.

Shiro calls for the guards to shoot if Keith tries anything.

Shiro grabs his hair and shoves Keith face down against the ground. His forehead takes the hit and the reverberation of it rattles through his skull. He scrambles to push to sit up but Shiro’s boot delivers a swift heel to his back, making him collapse.

Keith can’t do it. He can’t take his suit all the way off.

Shiro gets down to his knees beside Keith and reaches for the zipper.

Keith tries to roll away but he’s too dazed from the blow to the head and his body is slow. Shiro’s faster, grabbing Keith’s arm and holding tightly, making Keith tug against the socket in his attempt to escape. He yowls and tries to wiggle his arm out from Shiro’s hand but it’s his right one; the prosthetic is too strong.

” You made me do this, Keith. I tried warning you, tried keeping you in line, but you never could be kept, could you?”

Keith turns on his cheek to look at Shiro.

Shiro reaches for his own belt and takes it from his suit.

” That’s what I love about you, you’re a free little bird, Keith. You fly where you want to. But you flew away when you shouldn’t, and now I must clip your wings.”

Shiro reaches for Keith’s other arm and Keith pulls it beneath him. It angers Shiro, who growls and fists Keith’s hair, slamming his head down again. From the angle, so close to the floor, the hit strikes hard. It blinds Keith.

Shiro gets his arm, places both wrists in the prosthetic hand, and then ties them with his belt.

Keith sobs as he tries at the belt and it doesn’t budge.

” You made me do this,” Shiro says as he finally gets hold of the zipper and tugs it down.

Keith feels the cold air as the suit is shredded off him from the seams. He chokes on tears and the feeling of needing to vomit.

He hears Shiro rip the fabric of his own suit, knowing exactly where and for what purpose.

Keith tries to get back into the memories from earlier, prepare his mind, where his body won’t be, for what will be his first time.

He pretends they aren’t being watched. That they’re on the floor of the bathroom, too frantic in need to take it to their bed. They’ve done this plenty of times before, he lies to himself, it won’t be a big deal. It will be just like when he had Shiro’s fingers in him. It’ll be feverish, but still full of love-

There’s a press of weight against his lower back.

-Shiro’s always so good about taking care of him-

Something prods his entrance. He refuses to acknowledge what even in his head.

-Shiro loves him-

There’s no pre-amble, no work up or foreplay or gentle caresses or sweet words. Shiro shoves into him dry and tight.

He screams.

The pace Shiro sets is merciless. There’s no time to adjust, and Keith doesn’t have any framework on how to even adjust anyways. All he can do is sob and beg Shiro to stop, tell him he doesn’t need to do this, that _this isn’t him_.

He’s bleeding down his thighs and it’s the smallest mercy that is lubricates him somewhat. Which helps the slide but does nothing for how wide he’s forced to be.

He cries and cries and pulls at the belt holding his arms behind him.

Finally, Shiro drapes over him and gives his last thrust, emptying his spend into Keith’s wrecked hole.

From there, Keith isn’t sure what happens, because Shiro slams his head down a final time, cutting his consciousness.


End file.
